


Ficlets

by simpleandpure22



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpleandpure22/pseuds/simpleandpure22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ficlet collection. Various pairings and genres.</p><p>
  <b>Latest chapter: </b>
</p><p><i>The Opposite of Trust</i> (Jonas Hofmann/Marco Reus)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Seconds (Jonas Hofmann/Marco Reus)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Things you said with no space between us.

“Marco?”

“Yeah?”

“When will you let go of me?”

Marco chuckles. But instead of letting go, he tightens his hold around Jonas, tracing Jonas’ hairline with his lips. “I don’t know… tomorrow, maybe,” he says teasingly.

He hears Jonas sigh. “We’ve been standing here for ages,” the brunet complains, although he doesn’t sound annoyed. Not much.

Well, he’s right. The moment Jonas entered the room, Marco pulled him close and hugged him, didn’t even give him a chance to take off his jacket.

“I missed you,” Marco replies. It’s that simple. He really did.

Jonas says, “I was here last week.” He runs his hand through Marco’s back, before gently trying to push him away. _Yeah, nice try._ When he feels that Marco doesn’t budge, he gives another sigh, letting his arms drop on his sides.

“So?” Marco starts. Then his voice gets softer when he goes on, “I like having you close like this.” He feels Jonas move his arm, placing his hand on Marco’s waist.

“I know,” Jonas tells him patiently. “But I need to remove my jacket, it’s getting hot.”

Okay, fair enough. “Two seconds,” Marco says, pressing his lips on Jonas’ temple, feeling that Jonas’ hair slightly tickles his face, but it’s not unpleasant. They still have a lot of hours ahead of them. Well, Jonas will have to leave early in the morning, but Marco pushes that thought away to the furthest corner of his mind.

“Your definition of two seconds is clearly different from mine,” Jonas says, sounding amused.

Marco lets out a brief laugh, before finally releasing Jonas. He watches as the brunet takes his jacket off and hangs it on the coat rack. Then just as Marco is about to turn around and walk to the living room, Jonas closes the gap between them and kisses him, holding Marco’s face in his hands.

“I missed you, too,” Jonas murmurs against Marco’s lips.

Instead of replying, Marco kisses him. And one more time.

Or two.

 


	2. After Midnight (Roman Bürki/Yann Sommer)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Things you said when you were drunk.

It feels that Yann has only closed his eyes for less than five minutes when his phone rings. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he extends his other hand to reach for his phone that lies on the bedside table. It has to be either Granit or Roman. Granit does it once in a while when he can’t sleep (normally Yann only half listens, mumbling a yeah every now and then until Granit gets the hint and lets him sleep), and Roman only calls Yann this late when he really needs to talk to him.

“It’s almost one in the morning, Roman,” Yann says as soon as he answers the phone, sounding more sleepy than stern.

“Is it? Sorry then,” Roman replies, followed by a laugh.

Yann is still slightly disoriented from being woken up suddenly, but even he can pick up the slurring tone, and the uncharacteristically Roman laugh. “Have you been drinking?”

Roman lets out another laugh. “How d’ya know?” he says, making Yann sigh. This doesn’t happen often. In fact, he reckons only once before that Roman called him when he was drunk.

From behind Roman, Yann can hear some muffled chuckles. “You’re not alone, are you? Who’s that behind you?”

“Ah, just Erik and Julian. Do you want to talk to them?” And before Yann has time to say anything, Roman’s voice disappears and a moment later he hears someone else speak.

“Yann? It’s Julian. Sorry about this.” Julian sounds really apologetic. And pretty much sober. “We were at iRoom earlier. Erik and I talked about how he and Jonas handled a long distance relationship, and Roman heard it. He then wanted to call you, and we couldn’t stop him.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yann tells him, before hearing Roman say something behind Julian.

“Thanks. I’m sorry again that we disturbed you at this hour. Here’s Roman,” Julian says.

Soon Roman is back on the phone. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry,” he says, more coherently this time. “Just wanna hear your voice.”

Yann’s face breaks into a smile. All the annoyance has gone. “It’s okay. It’s good to hear your voice, too.” The international break is coming up, which means they’ll see each other again. He’s looking forward to that.

Someone says something behind Roman, and Roman must have put the phone away from his ear because Yann can’t really hear what he says. “Erik said I should let you go back to sleep,” Roman says a moment after.

“I’d appreciate that,” Yann replies, with a soft chuckle. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Roman echoes before adding, out of context, “I love your hair,” eliciting a laugh from the guys behind him. Yann laughs as well.

“I know.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's nowhere near as good as Kerry's or Nic's, I'm sorry. xD At least I tried, and I hope you don't find it too bad anyway :)


	3. Hope (Erik Durm/Matthias Ginter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Things you said before it was too late.

Hope is cruel. Matthias knows that by now.

He doesn’t even remember how long he’s been in love with Erik. Probably since he moved to Dortmund, probably before. Maybe since their days in the youth team even. But if Erik knows anything about his feelings, he never shows it. He treats Matthias like a friend, always has done. Perhaps… it is time to move on.

And so he does. He begins to keep his distance from Erik, doesn’t let his stare wander at the other boy for more than a second—one dangerous second which is already too much. It is by no means easy, because Erik is so… beautiful, everything about him, from the way he laughs to the way he tilts his head when he’s listening to whatever Nuri is telling him now. Inwardly cursing himself for not having stronger willpower when it comes to Erik, Matthias peels his eyes away. Enough of this stupidity, Erik doesn’t feel the same way about him, and he probably never will.

“Matze?” Matthias turns to see who called him, and mentally groans. Out of everyone, of course it has to be him. Erik gives him a grin, being totally oblivious of Matthias’ internal struggle. As usual. “Hey, wanna get something to eat after training?”

Forcing himself to smile, Matthias replies, “Sorry, today is… uh, not a good time.” Erik is still looking at him, waiting for more explanation, so Matthias clears his throat and goes on, “My brother is coming, and we’re—probably going to meet some friends. So, maybe some other time.” It’s not completely a lie. His brother is indeed here, but they haven’t made any plans for tonight.

Erik looks disappointed for a short second before nodding. But it must be just Matthias’ eyes deceiving him. “Okay,” Erik says softly, giving him a smile, his eyes linger for one more second on Matthias before he walks away.

Matthias watches his retreating figure until he disappears behind the gate separating the pitch and the building.

~*~

Saying that things go from bad to worse is an understatement. It seems that the more Matthias wants to stay away from Erik, the more Erik refuses to leave him alone. He runs near Matthias in the warm ups, being in the same groups with him, and it doesn’t help that Tuchel partners them most of the one-on-one trainings.

_Give me a break._

Matthias wonders how long he can last before he snaps, and it happens quicker than he expected.

“You have something on your hair,” Erik says, reaching out to Matthias’ hair, but Matthias quickly moves his head before Erik’s hand touches his hair. They are alone in the changing room, since both had to receive some extra treatment.

“It’s fine,” Matthias says abruptly.

“But, Matze—“

“Erik, it’s fine,” Matthias raises his voice and instantly regrets it when he sees Erik’s face. He adds, “Sorry, I just… “ and then pauses, doesn’t quite know what to say. Erik is looking at him in a way that makes Matthias want to kiss him or run from him, and neither is an option.

Erik is silent for a second, and then he says quietly, “You’ve been avoiding me lately.” It’s a statement, and Matthias can’t deny that because it’s true. “Have I done something wrong?”

Matthias knows he should tell him the truth. Erik doesn’t deserve this, and it’s not his fault that he doesn’t return Matthias’ feelings, but somehow the words that escape his lips are, “You haven’t. It’s nothing important.” And then he’s about to turn around, but Erik grasps his arm.

“If I’ve done something that bothers you, tell me, Matze,” he says, his tone soft yet firm.

“It’s not you,” Matthias replies, pulling his arm free. “It’s me.” Erik looks confused. Matthias takes a really deep breath and says, “I like you… a lot more than I should… since a long time ago. But, I know you don’t see me like that, so I—“ he stops uncertainly, “Let’s just forget about this, okay?”

Erik says nothing. His eyes slightly widen, but he doesn’t look sickened much to Matthias’ relief, he merely looks… surprised.

“Forget I said this, Erik,” Matthias says, hating the pleading tone in his voice. He looks down, can’t bear to look at the other boy anymore, not ready to see the disgust in Erik’s eyes when it all sinks in. “Please.”

“Matze, look at me,” Erik says, in a gentle tone that’s far from judgemental. Matthias does what he said, meeting his eyes. Erik smiles, making Matthias’ heart skip a beat. It’s a good sign, isn’t it? But he shouldn’t have hopes. Maybe Erik is just being kind, doesn’t want to humiliate him. It doesn’t mean he feels the same way about him. Hope is cruel. Matthias can’t afford to let his guard down and get his heart broken, all because of one small hope.

But the way Erik looks at him is just…

“I thought I was the only one feeling this way,” Erik continues, his voice getting softer. “I should have told you a lot sooner… but I never got the courage to do it.” He lets out another smile. A rosy blush grazing his cheeks.

Matthias blinks. Does he hear him right? “You—did you just say you feel the same way about me?” he asks dumbfoundedly.   _It can’t be._

“I did.”

There’s another silence. Matthias is still looking at Erik in disbelief, and he will probably do it for the rest of the evening if Erik doesn’t place a hand on his arm and says, “What about we get something to eat? Then we can… we can talk about this.”

Matthias finds himself nod. “Okay.”

“We can take it slow. It might feel overwhelming right now, for me as well, believe me. But we’ll … figure it out,” Erik rambles, his blush getting deeper.

It makes Matthias smile. Erik is as nervous as he is; it’s a good thing. “Sounds good to me.” Erik turns to him and smiles back.

Hope is cruel, indeed, but sometimes it’s worth it.

Like right now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another ship I haven't written before. I hope it turns out okay. :)


	4. Wrong (Jonas Hofmann/Marco Reus)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Marco wants to prove that he is not hopeless in the kitchen.

“This one, really?” Marco looks at the onion on the kitchen counter, averting his eyes at Jonas who watches him with a slightly amused look on his face, and then back at the onion again.

Jonas gives him a one shoulder shrug as he makes his way to the sink. “Yeah. What’s the problem?” He opens the tap and washes his hand. “It’s a perfectly normal onion.”

“It’s _huge_ ,” Marco protests. Of course Jonas has to choose the biggest onion he can find. “It’s bigger than an apple. It will take all evening to dice it,” he tries to reason.

Instead of listening to the reasonable protest, Jonas’ lips curve into a smile, and he says, “Then you better get started now, don’t you?” He pulls a knife from the drawer and begins to chop the leeks into a quarter inch pieces with ease. “I’m getting hungry.”

Marco still looks at him for a few more seconds before he sighs in defeat and starts the task he is given. He’s the one who wanted to do this in the first place, proving that he’s not completely hopeless in the kitchen as his mum and sisters accuse him to be. He can do this, it’s just an onion.

Slowly and carefully, Marco peels the skin and cuts the onion in half, copying what Jonas showed him the other day about dicing onions in fine pieces. He ignores the burning pain in his eyes, the tears that threaten to fall, only stopping when the pain becomes unbearable. He wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and blinks rapidly.

“You okay there, Marco?” Jonas has stopped what he’s doing and is now looking at Marco, his voice laced with concern.

Marco blinks one more time and puts up a smile. “I’m fine. Just a bit of tears, it’s nothing.”

Jonas looks at him for a moment, his expression softens and it’s so endearing that Marco just wants to claim his lips. But now is… probably not the right time. “It’s okay, you can stop. I’m done with the vegetables, I’ll do it.”

And it’s the perfect excuse for Marco to stop, he hates the way his eyes were burning, it’s so unpleasant. But instead, he shakes his head and says quite persistently, “I’ll get it done.”

“Are you sure?” Jonas asks.

“Yeah.”

So, Jonas lets him. And Marco continues dicing, and crying, but he will finish this fucking onion if it’s the last thing he does. Finally, he’s diced the last piece. Not as good as if Jonas did it, but it’s done. He turns his head to catch Jonas’ eye and sees that the brunet is watching him fondly, with a smile on his face, looking so bloody beautiful. Marco is about to smile back when a sharp pain makes him grimace. “Ow!”

He can’t believe it. He cuts his finger—accidentally slides his finger through the very sharp knife because he was _distracted._ Jonas moves fast, he strides out of the kitchen and comes back shortly after with a plaster for his finger.

Jonas gently holds Marco’s hand and examines it for a second before pulling it under the tap. “It’s not a deep cut, it’ll be fine,” he says, starting the water. After washing the finger under cold, running water, he grabs a towel and dries it, and then he carefully applies the plaster, all before Marco has a chance to say or do anything.

“Thanks,” Marco says, and then continues with a sigh, “I almost managed not to cut myself. _Almost_. I guess my family is not wrong to keep me out of the kitchen.”

Jonas smiles, reaching out to touch Marco’s arm. “No, you did well. It could happen to anyone,” he says kindly.

“Is this good enough?” Marco asks, gesturing at the coarsely diced onion.

“Well, it could have been _a bit_ finer,” Jonas replies, trying to sound serious but the dancing playfulness in his eyes contradicts it. “But it’s acceptable.”

Marco grins. “You’ll let me help next time then?”

“Yeah, but I probably won’t ask you to dice the onions,” Jonas says, and they both laugh.

 _Okay, fair enough_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd thought about this prompt for a while, and I just needed to write it down. :D I'll be back with the requests soon. <3


	5. Tomorrow (Erik Durm/Jonas Hofmann)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Things you said when you thought I was asleep.

“I’m sorry.”

The words are nothing more than a whisper, but in the stillness of the room they sound somehow too loud and too clear. Erik lies still, squeezing his eyes tighter. He knows Jonas doesn’t expect a reply, because he thinks Erik is asleep.

Cold fingers lightly brush against his shoulder. Erik hears Jonas let out a deep breath behind him. “I wish I didn’t have to do this, didn’t have to leave... you... Again,” Jonas says, and then stops.

Erik has to bite his lip to stop himself from saying something. Jonas’ fingers have left his shoulder, and Erik feels a loss. His head hurts, as well as his heart. Jonas is leaving, and this time he won’t come back after a year. It is unfair, because Erik just had him back, and now he has to let him go again. Whoever said the second time will be easier is lying. It’s not easier; never will be.

Just as Erik is about to open his eyes and let Jonas knows that he is still wide awake, Jonas slips an arm around Erik’s stomach, shifting closer against Erik’s back. Erik can feel his breath on the side of his neck.

Tomorrow. He’ll deal with this tomorrow. Right now he’ll just pretend that it doesn’t bother him. Jonas is still here, that’s what matters. They’ll figure something out. They always do.

Erik only wishes his heart didn’t hurt this much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super short and sad, I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. But there are more Durmann ficlets to come, so stay tuned. :)


	6. Happy (Håvard Nordtveit/Marco Reus)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Things you said when we were the happiest we ever were.

Håvard never considers himself melancholic. He’s a pretty sensible guy, and he doesn’t dwell on possibilities of things that might not happen. However, there is nothing reasonable about love. It comes without a warning, and refuses to leave even when Håvard’s got enough.

It’s been nearly four years. He’d think he would have gotten over Marco by now. Yeah, well he hasn’t; as pathetic as it sounds. Even more so because Marco _has_ moved on, since a long time ago. How Håvard wishes it was the case with him as well.

It’s still clear in his mind the match against Bochum in the relegation playoff. Håvard’s body went cold when the ball touched his foot and went inside their own net. He glanced at Marc’s devastated face as he picked up the ball, and it made him feel even worse. The possibility of him ruining it for the whole team sent a shiver down his spine. But he forced himself to push the thought to the back of his mind and kept playing. The match wasn’t over yet.

But then Marco saved them— _him_ —by equalising, and thus guaranteed that Gladbach would stay in the Bundesliga. Håvard will never forget that day; the day where they were probably the happiest they ever were. He hugged Marco, swapped jersey with him, and wanted nothing more than to pull Marco to the side where he could tell him how grateful he was.

Later when they were alone, Marco looked into his eyes and kissed him. Håvard froze for one second before kissing him back, all the feelings he had for Marco finally broke free.

“I’m happy you’re here, Howie,” Marco said in a soft voice when they pulled back for air.

“Me, too,” Howie replied, mesmerised by the way Marco was looking at him. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Marco’s face creased into a smile. “I should have thought of you as a friend. But I don’t… you’re more than that,” he confessed, almost timidly, looking so damn adorable.

Håvard felt as though his heart was doing somersaults in his stomach, but he tried to keep his composure. Lifting a hand to caress Marco’s cheek, he whispered, “You’re not the only one.” He brought their lips together again and the rest was history.

Little did he know, that years later he’d still be stuck in that feeling.

~*~

He meets Marco in Düsseldorf airport as their respective teams will travel to Turkey and Dubai for the training camp. It’s been a while since Håvard saw him, so he can’t help watching him longer than he should, sitting with him outside Gladbach’s gate, gently patting his back in a gesture that he hopes people will perceive as friendly. Thankfully, Oscar is with them, too; a great reminder for Håvard not to do anything reckless or stupid.

“How is Jonas Hofmann doing?” Marco asks, to nobody in particular.

It’s such an innocent question. Something _anyone_ could have asked about their former teammate who moves to another club. But somehow, Håvard feels that it’s not that simple. And the way Marco keeps glancing at the gate only adds to it.

Oscar is the one who answers. “He’s doing well so far. And he seems like a great guy.”

Marco smiles and says, “He is,” doing a lousy job at suppressing the fond tone in his voice.

It’s hard for Håvard to watch. He averts his gaze to his suitcase in front of him. When he looks back up, Oscar is watching him, looking understanding, and even a little… sad. He knows that all these years change nothing about what Håvard feels about Marco.

Then he hears the final boarding call from the airport announcer in the speaker.  After giving Oscar a faint smile, Håvard pats Marco’s back one more time. “We gotta go now, Marco. It was really nice seeing you here.”

They all rise up, and Marco hugs each of them. “Likewise, guys. I hope I’ll see you soon. Have a nice trip.” And then he looks at the gate one more time, but Jonas is nowhere to be seen, probably has boarded the plane. Marco then takes the handle of his suitcase and leaves.

Håvard never doubts that Marco really meant what he said that night, and in other circumstances, perhaps things would be different, too. Maybe they would last, or again maybe not.

“You okay, man?” Oscar asks softly.

Smiling at him reassuringly, Håvard replies, “Yeah. Let’s go.”

_I’m happy you’re here, Howie…_

_…There’s nowhere else I’d rather be._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This makes me sad. :( I initially thought about a happier one, but Elyse wanted it like this, so I'm only partially guilty...


	7. For Now (Jonas Hofmann/Marco Reus)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Things you said after you kissed me.

Jonas places his bag on the floor and turns to look at Marco, who has been watching him since he walked through the door. Marco smiles at him, but the brunet doesn’t smile back. Instead there is some concern on his face that can’t be ignored.

“I have to leave really early tomorrow,” Jonas says. “Probably before eight o’clock. They move the training to ten.”

Shaking his head gently, Marco replies, “Jonas, you literally just arrived. I don’t want to talk about you leaving,” he grins. “You could have just told me that you couldn’t be here. I’d understand.” He would hate it, but at least Jonas wouldn’t be here to witness him sulk all evening.

Jonas’ eyes remain fixed on him. “We need to talk.” Marco doesn’t like the way he said it. As though something is… _wrong_.

“Now you scare me,” Marco tries to joke. “Is it that serious? Should I sit down?” He gestures to the sofa behind him, putting up a smile.

Jonas doesn’t smile. “Marco, things don’t go as we expected this season,” he starts patiently. Marco knows he is referring to the lack of playing time in Gladbach. “So, there is a possibility that I will—probably—go on loan somewhere,” he goes on.

For a moment Marco doesn’t know what to say. It’s not like the possibility never occurred to him; he’s just getting pretty good at shoving it away from his mind. But hearing Jonas say it now makes it seem more real, more… terrifying.

“It’s not decided yet, of course,” Jonas quickly adds. “But I just want to warn you that it can possibly happen.” Marco nods stiffly. Jonas looks at him for a second before saying again, “I’d understand if you don’t want to deal with this anymore.”

 _What?_ Marco shakes his head in disbelief. “What are you talking about? Even if you moved somewhere else, we’d make it work. We’ve done it so far, right? It will be okay.”

Jonas’ face doesn’t look like he thinks it will be okay. Marco doesn’t like that. Why doesn’t he think they will make it?

“It could be anywhere, Marco. Augsburg, Mainz,” Jonas says, his voice low and quiet. “Berlin…” Every word sounds worse and worse. “I know it’s hard enough for you to see me leave every time, even though we got to see each other once or twice a week. And it’s just Mönchengladbach.”

Marco lets out a deep breath, trying to keep his calm. “I’ll deal with it.” The look on Jonas’ face clearly says that he doesn’t think so. It hurts. And it makes Marco start to doubt himself, too. Will he really be able handle Jonas being on the other side of the country?   

Jonas closes their distance and touches Marco’s face, smiling for the first time since he arrived. A sad smile that Marco would rather not see, because it makes his heart ache even more. “I’m sorry,” Jonas says softly, pain is evident in his voice, indicating that it’s not easy for him either.

Instead of forming a reply, Marco leans forward and captures Jonas’ lips. The kiss is not lovely or tender; it’s desperate and messy, a kiss that leaves them both breathless when they part. “Let’s not talk about this now,” Marco whispers, “Maybe things will be a lot better for you next season, and there’s nothing we should worry about,” hating the shakiness of his voice, of how he can’t sound more optimistic.

“Yeah,” Jonas says after being silent for a long moment, although the smile that grazes his lips is not entirely genuine. “Let’s worry about it when the time comes.” Marco nods, reaching out to caress Jonas’ face.

It’s all so familiar to him. Falling for a teammate, feeling like the happiest person in the world. Everything is fine... until one of them has to move. Oh, Marco knows it all too well. He pulls Jonas close to him and squeezes his eyes shut. He also knows how the ending will normally be. But for now, he'll push the thought away once again, to the back of his mind where all his worries and fears reside, wishfully hoping it will remain there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Elyse. Because my brain always comes up with something painful, even when the prompt is seemingly cute. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'm sorry.


	8. Hair (Erik Durm/Jonas Hofmann)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Things you said when there were only the two of us.

“Your hair looks… unusual.”

Erik sighs, but manages to stay calm. “We’re finally alone after not seeing each other for two weeks, and that’s the first thing you’re telling me?” Although he would be lying if he said he didn’t expect that. Erik’s friends were at his place when Jonas arrived, and after chatting away for half an hour or so they finally left. Erik was glad because he missed his boyfriend and wanted to be alone with him, but now he wishes his friends were still around.

Jonas’ eyes remain fixed on top of Erik’s head. “Can you please stop staring?” Erik hisses exasperatedly.

“Sorry.” Jonas shrugs, doesn’t sound sorry at the slightest. “But it’s so, um, noticeable.” And he still hasn’t stopped staring.

“You hate it?” Erik can’t suppress the concern in his voice. He doesn’t know why he’s so worried about Jonas’ reaction. Jonas is a pretty chill guy; he doesn’t normally comment a lot about Erik’s clothing choice or haircut. But this time Erik desperately wants his approval.

Shrugging his shoulders one more time, Jonas replies, “Just not used to it yet.”

Erik lets out another sigh. That’s it; he hates it. “You hate it,” Erik repeats, lowering his eyes. He won’t care so much about what others think, but it’s Jonas… and his opinion means a lot to Erik.

“Hey,” Jonas says in a gentle tone, lifting his hand and touching Erik’s face. “Look at me.” Erik does what he said, slowly, despite fearing he’ll see distaste in the brunet’s eyes. But much to his relief, he sees none of it.

Jonas’ fingers gently brush against Erik’s cheek. “Honestly, I like your old hair better. But you’re still you,” he says, his eyes glint beautifully. “It’s just hair, anyway.”

When Jonas’ words have sunk in, Erik can’t help but smile. “It’s just hair,” he agrees, and then whispers, “thanks.”

Jonas merely smiles.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably not something you'd expect from the prompt, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head. xD


	9. Worth It (Erik Durm/Jonas Hofmann)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Things you said when we were the happiest we ever were.

_The first team, Erik! Together._

_I couldn’t ask for anything better._

Erik can see that Jonas is thinking about something, can practically see the gears in his head turning. He doesn’t want to disturb. But whatever it is, it’s probably not a good thing, judging from the brunet’s serious face. He didn’t even crack a smile at a very funny ad on TV, one that normally never fails to make him laugh. When he gets a new message on his phone and doesn’t react, Erik finally has enough.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Erik switches the TV off and looks at Jonas.

Jonas blinks and turns his head to look at Erik. “What?” looking like someone has just woken him up from a trance.

“Jonas, you’ve been distracted all evening. Something is clearly wrong. What is it?” Erik says, in a softer yet insistent tone.

“It’s nothing important.” Jonas looks rather hesitant. “Why did you turn off the TV? I wanna see the hockey news; turn it on again.”

Erik’s not buying it. “I’m not turning it on until you tell me what is wrong.” He hides the remote control behind him, doesn’t care that it’s a childish move. Jonas is eyeing him, half-exasperated half-amused.

“You’re such a kid,” Jonas remarks, making Erik snort.

“Good to know,” Erik replies with a nonchalant shrug. “Now tell me.”

After taking a deep, deep breath, Jonas relents. “I was just thinking,” he starts slowly, looking at Erik, and then at the switched off TV in front of them. “It was just—I wonder if it’s all worth it. Us,” he adds, when Erik looks confused. Jonas licks his lips, darting his eyes back at Erik. “We were so happy when we got promoted to the first team. Together. We thought we had all the time in the world to play together.” Jonas pauses again, but Erik doesn’t urge him.

“In the end, we didn’t,” Jonas says, after the long silence.

Erik lets his words sink in, and then he puts his hand on Jonas’ knee, caressing it with his thumb. “So, what’s the problem?” he asks. Jonas looks at him with a frown. Erik exhales softly and says again, “Yeah, we didn’t play together much, and now we’re at different clubs. But it doesn’t change anything about what I feel about you—and what you feel about me.”

Jonas shakes his head. “Erik—“

Erik doesn’t let him finish. Jonas _has to_ know. “The answer to what you were wondering earlier is yes, it’s all worth it.”

For a moment they look at each other without saying anything, then Jonas opens his mouth and closes it again, as though he can’t find the right words to say. Erik takes Jonas’ hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “It’s all worth it, Jonas,” he repeats softly. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Jonas blinks, and slowly he smiles. “Better than winning the World Cup?” he asks, the smile turning into a cheeky one.

“Now you’re stretching it,” Erik retorts, but his smile says otherwise. And Jonas’ smile shows that he knows.

They look at each other for a bit longer, and then Jonas says, “Can we watch the hockey news now?”  trying to reach for the remote control behind Erik’s back. “Please?”

Erik sighs and lets him take the remote.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second to last request. :D I hope you liked it.


	10. Pieces (Jonas Hofmann/Marco Reus)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco won't go to the Euro, and Jonas is not there to pick up the pieces.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jonas tilts his head, his brows furrow in a frown. He looks utterly adorable doing so.

“I said I want cheese soufflé,” Marco repeats, crossing his arms. “My mum made it the other day and it was sublime. The recipe is in that book.” He gestures at the book on the kitchen counter, with his head.

Jonas is looking at him with narrowed eyes. “But Marco, it’s rather tricky to make. Do you think this is a restaurant?”

Okay then… it’s time to up his game. Cracking a smile, Marco gives him a gentle shrug. “Fine. I had a crappy birthday yesterday; I thought I wanted to have something nice today.”

As he’s predicted, it does the job. Jonas’ face softens, and despite rolling his eyes, Jonas turns around and pulls the book towards him. Marco feels a bit bad to use yesterday’s event as a trump card, but hey anything that will make him feel better. And he really wants that cheese soufflé.

He watches as Jonas measures and mixes the ingredients, mumbling that it’s complicated but keeps going anyway. Once Jonas forgets that he has flour on the back of his hand and brushes his face with it, leaving some trail of flour on his forehead. It makes Marco smile. This is what he needs, this touch of normality.

Jonas called him yesterday, to wish him a happy birthday, and Marco told him he wouldn’t go to the Euro. He knew that Jonas wouldn’t show pity or sympathy, and he wasn’t disappointed. Marco preferred it that way. Jonas merely said he was sorry, and that he would see him soon.

“Can I help?” Marco asks.

But Jonas shakes his head, looking over at Marco. “If you mess up the ratio, the soufflé won’t rise. I can’t risk that,” he says in a serious voice, but there’s a glint in his eyes. Marco wants to look offended, but his smile betrays him.

“Thank you.”

Jonas turns to him again. “There’s still a possibility that it won’t rise. I haven’t tried this recipe before, with two different kinds of cheese. Collapsed soufflés are the worst.”

Marco looks at him; at his blue eyes, then the trail of flour on his face. He wants to forget, if just for a moment, about the lingering ache in his chest. One would think this time it would be easier, because first cut is the deepest, right?

Well, it isn’t easier.

Jonas can’t magically take Marco’s pain away—nothing can. But he is the reminder that the world is still turning. Lifting a hand, Marco gently touches Jonas’ cheek. “I’m sure they’ll be perfect.” _Anything from you is perfect._

The brunet leans into his touch and smiles. “Then I better finish this batter quickly, before the oven reaches the right temperature.”

~*~

They both watch the soufflés in the oven every five minutes, and cheer when they rise beautifully. They’re eating it right away because this kind of soufflé is best eaten when still hot. It tastes delicious, the texture light and it melts in Marco’s mouth.

“It’s fantastic,” Marco says, after taking another mouthful.

Jonas looks pleased. “Better than your mum’s?” he asks mischievously, tilting his head.

Marco smiles. It’s not even a question. “Yes.”

It looks like Jonas didn’t expect that. His eyes slightly widen when he stares at Marco, as though trying to find out if he’s joking or not. “…I’m glad you liked it,” Jonas finally says.

Once they’ve eaten the remaining soufflés, Jonas washes his hands. “Where are you going?” Marco asks, as Jonas starts to walk away.

“To the shower,” Jonas replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Marco feels a bit silly that he’s acting like a clingy child. “Of course,” he says, and then quickly adds, “But you’ll be staying, right? You’re not leaving soon.”

He sees realisation dawn on Jonas’ face. The brunet steps forward and says softly, “You know I’ll stay until Friday.”

Yeah, he told Marco that he needs to go back to Heidelberg on Friday because one of his cousins will get married on Saturday. So Marco doesn’t really know why he asked that. Maybe he just wants a confirmation that Jonas will be staying a little bit longer, that he won’t be gone by tomorrow.

“Are you okay, Marco?” Jonas asks, his voice laced with concern.

Marco could have—should have said that he is, like what he’s told everyone else. But Jonas is not everyone else. “I will be,” Marco says in murmur. There will be more defeats, more heartbreaks, more _fucking_ injuries. But that’s life, and he can only put them behind him and move forward.

Jonas is quiet for a second before nodding. “I know you will be."  Marco has no doubt that he means it, and he couldn’t love him more for it. Jonas is not here to pick up the pieces... because he believes that Marco won't fall to pieces.

Putting his hands on each side of Jonas’ face, Marco leans forward and kisses his temple, his nose, and finally down to his lips. He tastes some flour on Jonas’ skin, but it’s the least of his concern. When they pull away, Marco can still feel the warmth of Jonas’ lips on his.

 


	11. The Opposite of Trust (Jonas Hofmann/Marco Reus)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Elyse. Sorry, it strays from the original prompt. xD
> 
> I hope you like it anyway. <3

“Marco?”

Marco turns his head to look at Jonas who’s lying next to him. “Hmm?”

Jonas doesn’t reply right away. He reaches out to touch Marco’s face, lightly brushing on his cheek. Marco can’t see him clearly in the dark, but Jonas is beautiful; his silhouette, the way he blinks… Marco will never get tired of watching him.

“I’m sorry.”

That makes Marco frown. “Sorry for what?” he asks, capturing Jonas’ fingers in his hand, stopping them from moving. “Did you break something I don’t know?” he continues jokingly.

Jonas pulls his hand back. “For leaving,” he says, his voice calm yet wistful. “I mean I don’t regret moving to Gladbach. I feel good there; that was the right thing to do.” He pauses for a moment before saying again, “But I left you. I wish I didn’t, but I did.”

It’s not what Marco expected to hear. “Jonas…”

But Jonas cuts him off, as though Marco didn’t say anything, “People keep leaving you; Mario, Lewy, Mats, and—me. I’m afraid one day it will come back to bite me." He shifts closer, burying his head in the crook of Marco’s neck. ”You’ll leave me.”    

Marco doesn’t know what to say. He places his hand on Jonas’ cheek. What makes him say all this? Marco has been nothing but understanding about his situation. It’s not easy, and he hates letting Jonas go every single time, but it never even crosses his mind to give up on him. _Fucking not ever._

“Why are you saying this?” Marco asks. “You know how much I love you.”

“I do.” Jonas traces Marco’s collarbone with a finger. “Maybe I’ve just been thinking about the ‘we reap what we sow’ thing.”

Marco gently shakes his head. “Jonas, I’m not going to leave you.” _If one of us is going to hurt the other… it’s not going to be me,_ he adds in his mind. But he doesn’t—can’t bring himself to say it out loud. It seems to reassure Jonas because Marco can feel him smile against his skin.

“I trust you.”

“Good.”

When Jonas has fallen asleep, Marco is still wide awake. He touches Jonas every now and then, careful not to wake him up. Being left behind is his biggest fear… it shouldn’t be Jonas’. Although Jonas believed him completely when Marco said he wouldn’t leave. _I don’t know what I should feel about it._ In a way it’s touching how Jonas trusts him just like that. But on the other hand, Marco has always got the feeling that Jonas is going to hurt him one day.

Ironic, isn’t it? For Marco, the opposite of trust is not distrust—it’s fear. Jonas doesn’t know that.

_…And he doesn’t have to._

 


End file.
